


welcome to the hotel hell (check-in time is now, check-out time is never)

by ferda



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 17:13:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13151244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferda/pseuds/ferda
Summary: Jake snorts. “So,” he starts, fishing his keys out of his pocket to unlock his car again, “you wanna go get brunch? I could go for some hash browns.”“Only if you promise to not steal any of my bacon this time,” Joe says, smiling, and Jake laughs again as he slides back into the driver’s seat.





	welcome to the hotel hell (check-in time is now, check-out time is never)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [classifieds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/classifieds/gifts).
  * Inspired by [risk management](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11825946) by [classifieds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/classifieds/pseuds/classifieds). 



> this is for eme! love u beonch thanks for writing the best office au of all time

i  
Kieffer landed an interview with a firm out in Oregon back in April, and somehow got himself the job. 

“I’m excited for the fresh start,” he says, when people ask him about it. “It’ll be cool to have a change of pace, and getting away from the cold Boston winters will be nice.”

“That’s awesome dude, congrats,” Charlie says, smiling warmly as he claps Kieffer on the shoulder. 

“Do you think he knows that Oregon gets a shitton of snow every year?” Joey asks, murmuring softly to Charlie so that Kieffer doesn’t hear.

“I dunno, man,” Charlie whispers back. He’s still smiling at Kieffer, but it’s tight around the eyes. “Probably not.”

ii  
“My dudes, did you hear Tyler got engaged?” Tage asks during the lull before the quarterly sales meeting. His Gucci loafer-clad feet are propped up on the table, and he’s leaning so far back in his chair it looks like he’s about to tip over. Jake could try and find the metaphorical significance in that if he wanted to.

“Real shit?” Charlie asks, from down the table.

Tage nods, slow and dumb, the way people do when they’ve just woken up from a nap. Or, alternatively, the way people do when they’re three beers in and trying to hide it, which is more likely, knowing Tage. “The realest of shit. He posted about it on the ‘gram the other day. Did none of you see?”

“I heard he was like, fucking his cousin,” Casey says. It comes out muffled from where he is, head stuck underneath the table where the projector hooks up to the computer as he tinkers with the mess of wires and cords. 

“The hell’d you hear that from?” Roslovic asks as he walks in and sits down in his usual spot. He doesn’t even look up as he makes his way over; his nose is buried in his phone, fingers moving across the screen every so often. Jake absentmindedly wonders how many calories Jack’s burned from swiping right so many times. 

“I dunno,” Casey replies, emerging from under the table to look around at everyone. “Like—around, I guess. That’s just how Republicans are, you know?”

No one agrees with him, but no one disagrees, either, and that says enough on its own.

iii  
Jake isn’t sure whose turn it is to choose the lunch spot, but he hopes it’s his. He wants Cane's, though. He’s been craving Texas toast and fries for what feels like ages, and there’s something about the mellow, college-vibe atmosphere makes being anything other than stupidly happy seem near impossible.

An hour or so away from lunch Jake is filing, deep into the zone, when he gets a text from Joe. _u ready for lunch today?_ it says, and that’s all it takes for Jake to start smiling like an idiot.

 _ofc i am_ Jake sends back, and then, _who gets to pick today_

 _its my turn_ Joe replies, and Jake doesn’t even have time to lament not getting to choose before Joe sends _im thinking canes??? totally down for texas toast rn_

Jake smiles harder, which he didn’t think was possible. Then again, it’s Joe, so he shouldn't be surprised.

iv  
“Morning, Caleb,” Luke says on his way to the elevator, same as every other day he’s come in for work. It’s a fun little thing they do, saying hi to each other every morning, and it’s no sweat off of Luke’s back to be a nice person. At least Caleb is normal, unlike some of the freaks in this office.

“Morning, Luke,” Caleb responds, holds out his infamous bowl of caramel candies for Luke to take from. “How’ve you been?”

“Good, thanks,” Luke says, but the framed picture of Caleb with Patrick Harper sitting next to the candy bowl catches his eye for what has to be the billionth time, and he suddenly needs answers like he needs air to breathe. “I’d be better if you’d tell me where you two took that picture, though.”

Caleb smiles good-naturedly as he sets the bowl down, logs onto Pandora, and turns on talk show radio. “Oh, you know,” he says, trailing off in the middle of his sentence, vague and entirely unhelpful. 

Luke sighs as he takes another piece of candy from the bowl and continues on with his arduous journey up to the office. 

“Caleb is a freak, too,” Luke mutters as he steps into the elevator, words only slightly garbled by the candy in his mouth. “I don’t know why I even bother.” 

v  
Even with Kieffer gone, it’s become a tradition of sorts for Jake and Jordan to spy on Clayton as he takes his phone calls, if not to listen to how bizarrely he conducts himself when talking to his clients, then at least just to see how long it takes for him to notice them watching. 

Today is no different, except Clayton’s call is. Well.

“Mmm,” Clayton hums, low-pitched and quiet into his phone. He glances around to make sure no one is watching before he leans down, hunched into himself, and continues to talk. 

“You’d like that, huh? You think it’d be good?” Clayton says, twirling a pen in his fingers. “You’d have to work for it, if you can handle the—oh, I promise it’s worth the reward.”

Jake nudges Jordan with his elbow, makes _holy fucking shit_ eyes at him when Jordan turns to face Jake with his eyebrows raised. 

“Nevermind that you’ve never tried it before. Trust me, I’ve been there, done that—just listen. Listen, okay? I know what you need. I know how to make this work. You just need to trust me. Can you do that?”

Jordan muffles a gasp by biting down on the heel of his hand, his whole body shaking. Jake can’t move. He’s not sure if it’s out of shock, or fear, or disgust, or some weird type of awe. Maybe a mixture of all of them. Maybe an emotion mankind doesn’t even have a word for yet. Everyone knows that Kells is like, neck and neck with Roslovic for reigning tinder god at the office, but phone sex is a ballsy move, even for him. HR is going to have a field day with this if either of them decide to report it.

Clayton listens intently to whatever is happening on the other end of the line for a long moment, then nods, smiling. “Perfect. I”ll be in touch with you about much your premiums will change now that you’re paying biannually instead of monthly,” he says, and—suddenly Jake has never felt so caught off-guard in his life. 

“What the fuck,” Jake whispers. “What the straight up, literal fuck.” Jordan has his face buried in his hands, still shaking all over, but Jake thinks he sees him shrug his shoulders. 

“Thank you so much for your business, Ethel. Tell Herbert I say hi. Alright. Goodbye, take care now,” Clayton says before he hangs up. He then stands, stretches for a second, and makes his way over to the conference room, where Colin has left his latest batch of 'sorry for utterly destroying the printer again' baked delicacies for the rest of the office to feast on.

“Holy shit,” Jordan says, after a second, wiping the corners of his eyes and fixing his shirt where it’s rucked up. “Her name is Ethel. And she’s married to a _Herbert_. Like, what?”

“Herbert. That’s a hell of a name.”

“Bet he’s a hell of a guy, if his wife gets this freaky over finances.”

“Oh my god—I need to go file,” Jake blurts out. He flees before anything else he can’t handle happens, like more phone sex, or having to think about the elderly boning.

vi  
Ryan Lindgren set a record last week for becoming the only person in the history of the company to be named employee of the month for nine months straight. Laczynski—or Laczknski, as his business cards say—suggested that everyone chip in to buy him a cake, but that idea got shot down pretty fast. No one wants to throw their money around, especially when they’re all college students, and they can just use Colin’s next apology pie to celebrate.

vii  
Jake pulls into the employee parking lot at 8:30, same as always, but slows when he sees the entire office standing next to a fire truck right outside the front door. Jake catches Joe’s eye as he drives in, and waves him over as he maneuvers his car into a parking spot.

“What happened?” Jake asks him, once he’s out of the car and Joe has made his way over. 

Joe rolls his eyes. His tie is bright pink with little sunflowers dotted across it. It’s cute, in a really ugly way. Jake could try and find the metaphorical significance in that if he wanted to. “Colin jammed the printer, but this time he felt so bad that he tried to fix it,” Joe says, just this side of annoyed. It’s a good look on him, Jake thinks, but then again, he’s probably biased.

Jake snorts. “So,” he starts, fishing his keys out of his pocket to unlock his car again, “you wanna go get brunch? I could go for some hash browns.” 

“Only if you promise to not steal any of my bacon this time,” Joe says, smiling, and Jake laughs again as he slides back into the driver’s seat. 

Jake maneuvers them out of the parking lot, and feels something in him settle watching as Joe turns on the radio and flicks through the different stations. He doesn’t know what it is, but it’s—warm, almost. Soft. Jake doesn’t have the right words to describe it, but he figures he can ask Joe for an SAT vocabulary word later. Joe’s always good for that. He’s good for a lot of stuff. 

Jake is happy with how things are, with how his routine is constant enough to be reliable but still interesting enough to not be boring. It comforting to know that even though they’re taking the rest of the day off they don’t have to worry about missing much, or at least not anything they won’t see tomorrow.

Like, Jake knows that Tage will show up to work two hours late in a fitted Canali three-piece and accomplish nothing other than hotboxing his office, and that Troy Terry will do his best to keep him in line. Colin will, more likely than not, jam the printer, and Joey will, more likely than not, have a nervous breakdown over trying to fix it. Charlie will complain to Clayton about how much he hates his job, Jordan will complain to Luke about how much he hates Colin, Tanner will complain to anyone that will listen about how much he hates his business cards, and Roslovic will debate the pros and cons of paying for a premium Tinder account.

The office will be a shitshow like it always is, but Joe will be waiting for Jake in the lobby in one of his dumb, stupid ties, and Jake will smile when he sees, because he will still be dumb, stupid in love with him.

They’ll be good, the two of them. They always have been. They always are.

**Author's Note:**

> viii  
> Joe is kind enough to share his bacon. Jake makes a mental note to thank him for it later.


End file.
